In The Silence
by BlessedMay
Summary: In the wake of the Final Battle, there is more pain to be delivered and Hermione is left in the silence.
1. Chapter 1

Whoever said silence was golden had never been on an body-littered field after war had ravaged it through.

Hermione fought the urge to scream as she stood amongst fallen friends and enemies alike. In the wake of the Final Battle, no one could speak and most everyone had fallen. She glanced around, looking for a place to step through only to find herself completely surrounded by amassed bodies. There were no open spaces, no gaps in the terror, just the endless horrific sight as far as she could see. Were there no survivors?

"Harry?" She whispered, her voice hoarse from the spells she had used for hours on end. There was no answer to her quiet call; she wasn't sure she would be able to hear him anyways, her mind was full of that frightening quiet.

"Please..." Her voice trailed off as she began to panic. She frantically searched from her position on the field before beginning to run. She tried to ignore the feel of bodies giving way beneath her feet, but she was uncomfortably aware of the squish of bodies, fluids and fabric. She couldn't contain herself any longer, her mouth opened and she screamed until her throat was raw. She continued to scream even as she realized she couldn't hear her own high pitched wail. Tears streaked down her face and dropped onto her tattered robes, bleeding into the black fabric along with the other miscellaneous stains.

Her foot caught on someone's robe and she fell to the ground. She found herself face to face with the silent body of her best friend Ron. His red hair was cast around him and in the increasing light, the sun gave him an almost angelic glow that he could never achieve in life. His face was smudged with dirt and blood and his left cheek was swollen. Hermione collapsed into his chest and cried. Her heart broke just a bit more when she realized she couldn't hear his heart.

"Plea..." She broke off through the word, her sobs tearing through her mouth. "Please Ron, please come back." She was reduced to a pitiful mess, she knew she would never hear him ask for help with homework again, or tell her how hungry he was, or how desperately he wanted to go to Honeydukes and get some more chocolate to restore his stash.

She slowly pushed herself away from his body and crawled away. She looked around urgently for the other third of their infamous trio. Tousled black hair could be seen from the corner of her eye, so she changed directions to head towards him. She was surprised to find Harry in a similar situation to herself, though he seemed to be waking from a nightmare from the expression on his face. He rose from his knees and stood among the bodies like she had originally done. He swayed briefly just from the sight, but seemed to recover himself and glanced in her direction. He said something, but the sound didn't reach her ears.

"Harry?" She gasped, trying to stand up. She stumbled and toppled back into the bodies, so she remained among them. She watched Harry race her way, all the while saying something. If it was her name or something else, she couldn't tell; she never was able to read lips.

He grabbed her arms with bruised hands and lifted her from the ground. He hugged her tightly to himself, burying his nose in her hair. She could feel his mouth moving, but no sound came out. She wondered if he had been hit with the muffiliato curse. He lifted his face from her hair and grasped her cheeks in his large hands. His green eyes were full of water and she was astounded for just a brief moment before he pressed his lips to hers. Whether it was a declaration of undying love or just plain relief at seeing her alive, she didn't know. Hermione also knew that she didn't really care either. She reciprocated the motion and clutched him tightly to her body.

He slowly pulled away, lingering in her embrace. He spoke again and she knew it was her name on his lips. She wondered again why she couldn't hear him, but ignored that fact by glancing around them, curious to see if anyone else had survived. She was surprised to see others rising from the filthy ground with confused expressions on their faces. She realized that where she had assumed they were all dead like the ones she had been next to were, they were actually unconscious. She vaguely remembered someone flinging a curse that had hit half the crowd, making them fall, before she had managed to cast a stupefy at the dark wizard.

Harry had his hands on her shoulders and was trying to get her attention. His mouth was moving but no sound was coming out. She knew she looked confused, her brows had drawn together and her lips pursed slightly. He was saying her name again and she desperately wanted to hear him, but there was no sound. And then it hit her.

She couldn't hear anything.

She couldn't hear Harry saying her name. She couldn't hear the relieved whispers of war heroes as they rose from the mass grave. She couldn't hear Kingsley and Mr. Weasley's footsteps as they chased after an escaping Lucius Malfoy. She had not heard Ron's heartbeat and she had not heard her screams, whispers or sobs. It was not a curse on Harry or anyone else. There was no muffling curse on the field itself. No, Hermione had lost her hearing.

She was deaf.

Her eyes filled with furious, panicked tears. Harry was holding her face again and he seemed just as worried as she. She could feel the press of bodies around her as more people woke up. Harry glanced behind her and she turned around to see who had risen. It was Ron. He rubbed his face, further smudging blood and dirt on his cheek. He pressed one hand to his swollen cheek and ran the other through his messy hair. He glanced up and caught their gaze; a brilliant smile lit his face. He raced across the field and pulled them both into his arms. His lips were moving against her cheek; she knew he was saying their names like a mantra, a praise to realize they all made it through the war. He pulled away after a long moment and couldn't stop staring at them both. His watchful eyes switched from her to Harry and back again, not resting long on one person. Confusion spread across his face when she didn't speak.

"Ron?" She wondered if her words were garbled, if they sounded like the words of the girl who used to live down the street from her in her muggle neighborhood. He looked abruptly frightened when she spoke and returned his blue eyed gaze to Harry's bright green one. They were talking over her head and she very much wanted to hear their voices again.

They were leading her away from the battlefield now. They carefully stepped over bodies that would never rise again, passed by friends who were glad to be alive, and mushed through the mud that had been created in the aftermath of the Final Battle. Hermione wished she could hear the squish of the mud, hear the rising voices of the survivors clinging to each other and crying out their relief. But most of all, Hermione simply wished she could hear Harry and Ron's voices again. She wished Harry's deep, yet boyish voice would wash through her ears and erase the horror of the event they had just survived. She wished she could hear the joke that Ron had teased her with earlier, a joke that could block out the wails of the hurting that she knew were echoing around her, even as she couldn't hear them.

Before them on the path, the castle looked like a broken monument of their rebellious idealology. Wizards and witches, students and teachers, young and old alike were moving around in a daze; half amazed they won and half amazed at the damage that had been caused. Harry and Ron led her through the castle until they reached what remained of the Great Hall. The tables had been transfigured into beds where all the wounded had been placed. Madam Pomfrey was bustling around with numerous medi-witches following along. Orders were being barked and commands were issued, but Hermione's ears were filled with that numbing silence that cut out all noise.

Harry and Ron sat with her on a thankfully empty bed, her hands engulfed by theirs. Despite the low priority of her need, Madam Pomfrey was by her side soon enough. Spells and incantations were cast, but nothing could be revealed about her hearing loss. They all stared at her, baffled. That was when Hermione knew the truth. There was nothing that could be done about her loss and there were others who were more greatly injured. Seeing as how Ron and Harry were still holding her hands, she rose from the bed and pulled them out of the impromptu medical ward. They stumbled behind her, but when she turned back to look at them, they realized that she had already resigned herself to a fate without sound.

They passed by Mrs. Weasley, who was sobbing over Fred's body, so Ron stayed behind to help comfort her and to deal with his own grief. Hermione and Harry continued on their walk, the general direction being the Owlery. It was disturbing to see how empty the room was when they finally made it up the long flights of stairs. There were no owls flitting about or anyone off sending letters to home; it was completely empty. Hermione pressed herself up against the window and gazed down at the opposite side of the castle. She couldn't see the destruction from here and she obviously couldn't hear it either. Harry pressed himself against her back and wrapped his arms around her. She leaned her head back against his chest and began to cry again.

Her tears were not of pain or horror, merely futility. The futility of ever regaining her hearing or of Hogwarts ever really being the same again. There was futility in the families ever truly recovering from the loss of friends and family. She cried without really knowing why and only stopped when Harry softly pressed their lips together in a bittersweet kiss that revealed long repressed emotions. The tilt of her neck was awkward, but Hermione was beyond caring. She wrapped her arms around his neck and relished the feeling of his chest pressed into her back. Their kiss was deep and passionate while still maintaining a soft and delicate nature.

Despite the pain of what she had experienced and the knowledge that she would probably never hear Harry's voice again, Hermione lost herself in the moment and forgot why she hated silence in the first place.


	2. Chapter 2

It was strange not being able to hear.

Once the original fear and shock had settled down, Hermione's more logical side had emerged and found herself searching for creative ways in which to communicate. She had momentarily scratched sign language off the list because that would require not only learning the language herself, but teaching at least Harry as well. She had also wondered if there was a magical route to regaining her hearing, however, no matter how many books she read on the topic, it appeared that most witch and wizard's deafness was cured at birth or caused by something other than magical means. Considering that it was a curse that had reduced her senses from five to four, the medi-witches were unprepared to deal with her malady.

So here she was, sitting in the relatively unscathed Gryffindor common room in a cozy chair with a white board and a marker in her hands. Harry sat on the couch across from her, staring into the fire. Occasionally he would glance her way and write something on his own white board to which she would answer, but for the most part they remained still. She rubbed her face lightly and realized with a jerk that she was still covered in grime. She frowned and rubbed her hands on her robes, trying to get at least some of the surface stuff off. She began to rub furiously as she realized that the blood and dirt was not coming off. Her skin felt raw from her vicious scrubbing, but she refused to cease until it was all gone.

Harry's hands pinning her own hands down forced her to pause. She stared up abruptly and caught his worried gaze. Heaving gasps were making her chest ache, so she slowly controlled her breathing until it relaxed to a normal rate. She leaned forward and pressed her forehead to Harry's; his breath hitched just before he pressed his lips to hers. Their kiss was frantic and their hands were grasping and groping. They had some how managed to end up on the couch with Hermione pressed tightly into the red cushions while Harry was placing reckless kisses along her jawline and down her neck. Hermione threw her head back and shoved Harry away before he could go further. He toppled off the couch and came to a stop on the brown rug in front of the fireplace. His green eyes were wide with shock and his lips were swollen from their kissing. She grabbed the white board and discarded marker and began to write. When she finished, she turned the board around so he could see the words she had scribbled across it hastily.

_"This is neither the time or the place. We should be focusing on trying to find a cure for this infernal silence!" _The white board declared in quick, sloping letters. Harry picked up his own board and wrote with the precision of a teenage boy still hyped up on hormones.

_"When and where is right? We've tried all the magical solutions, we've read half the books in the library." _He paused to erase what was on his board to create more room for the rest of his words. _"There is no possible way we've overlooked any cures!" _

Hermione shot to her feet and dropped her white board on the couch. Her brown eyes were lit with her anger and she her lips were pursed. Her mouth opened and words began to spill out before she realized that they would be garbled and hardly understandable.

"How dare you just give up on me? There is always a solution! Always!" Judging by the expression on Harry's face, she assumed that whatever came out of her mouth was beyond comprehension and a total waste of time. He spoke and she watched his lips curve around her name. She whirled away and was half way across the common room until Harry's arms came around her from behind and pulled her close. He was speaking, but all she could feel was his lips brushing against her neck in soothing patterns. He pulled her back to the couch and grabbed his white board again.

_"I'm not giving up Hermione, I just think we need to expand our search beyond the magical world." _She read in his familiar hand writing. She paused for a moment before writing on her board as well.

_"You're right, there must be a muggle remedy to this." _As she turned the board to face him, her eyes went wide and she dropped it to the floor. Harry's eyes snapped to hers in concern and took in her pale face and frightened eyes. He mouthed a word that she assumed was 'what' and grabbed her board from the floor.

"_My parents, they're still in Australia, we have to get them back!" _She handed him the board and started up towards the dorms. Harry grabbed her hand and turned her to face him.

_"Let's not rush this Mione, we should get someone from the Order to go with us." _He had written on his board. She fought the instinct to immediately start packing and nodded her head. She mouthed the word 'who' and he wrote on his board again.

_"Maybe Mr. Weasley or Kingsley?" _He suggested. Hermione pointed at Mr. Weasley's name and returned to the couch. Harry sat down beside her and pulled her into his arms.

They sat there for an indeterminate amount of time, just relaxing in each other's arms and appreciating the lack of activity. Hermione was sure there was something that needed doing around the castle, but for once she allowed herself to be the person who needed searching out instead of being the one on the search. She pressed her head into Harry's chest and he willingly pulled her closer.

And for the first time since she realized she was deaf, Hermione appreciated the silence.


	3. Chapter 3

It was snowing.

Hermione pressed her face into the glass window and stared out at the winter wonderland that the white blanket the snow created on Hogwarts' expansive grounds. People paused in their steps, hands released their grips on bodies and everyone lifted their faces into the sky. What had formerly been another bleak day in which to clean up the mess the war had created was quickly turning into something quiet and soft. Hermione raced out of the Gryffindor common room and down stair ways. She nearly leapt a banister in her hurry to touch and see the snow herself. She threw the doors to outside open and fell knee deep into snow. She cupped it in her hands and watched as her hands began to turn pink from the cold.

Someone placed their hand on her shoulder, so she glanced up to see who it was. Ron was standing above her, a twisted smile on his face and a vulnerable look in his eyes. Hermione pushed herself off of her knees and threw her arms around her best friend. The red head paused briefly before reciprocating. He pressed his lips to her forehead and she pulled back with a smile. The bookworm started walking further out into the field, appreciating the resistance of the snow to her slow steps. Harry was standing across the snowy field, lifting a body with the levicorpus spell. Black, curly hair toppled haphazardly around the body and even from the distance, Hermione was able to recognize Bellatrix Lestrange. Snow had blanketed itself in her massive amounts of hair, almost obscuring it's raven look. Hermione felt sick satisfaction in the knowledge that even in death, the dark princess was conquered by purity.

Abruptly, Hermione fell over backwards into the snow. Ron shot to her side and Harry dropped what he was doing. They peered over into the hole she had created with her fall and watched in detatched amusement as she began to wave her arms and legs to make a snow angel. The boys looked so stunned that Hermione couldn't help the chuckle that slipped past her lips. She bit her lip at the soft expressions on their faces. Bright smiles suddenly split their faces as they began to chuckle as well. Everyone paused in surprise when they heard the trio start to laugh full out. The laughter was contagious; it spread across the field in a matter of moments, even if no one knew _why _they were laughing.

Harry and Ron both reached down into the hole to lift Hermione back out, but instead, she tugged them down to fall beside her. The two, large boys toppled down into the snow and lay in silence before laughing again. Then all three relaxed and shared in making snow angels together. Hermione sat up in her hole and looked at the two boys beside her. Harry and Ron stared back, confusion in their eyes. She scrambled out of her angel and tried not to mess it up. The boys did the same and stood beside her.

Three angels were carved into the snow; perfection in white.

Hermione leaned into Harry's side and sighed softly. His hand came up to brush her hair out of her face as he pulled her closer. Ron grasped her hand on her other side and squeezed it gently. Small smiles curled onto their lips as they stood together in silence. Hermione pulled away from Harry gently and grabbed his hand as well. She pulled them with her as she made her way back to the castle. The trip to what was left of the Astronomy Tower was long, but very worth it. Most of the walls on the Astronomy Tower had been stripped away, leaving an almost undisturbed view of the surrounding land. The Forbidden Forest didn't look quite so daunting now that it was covered in a fine sheet of snow. The Weeping Willow swayed in the light breeze before shaking off the icicles that had formed on it's many branches.

Hermione could almost perfectly remember her first Christmas at Hogwarts. Hagrid would be wandering around his cottage with Fang at his side, the large dog would be slobbering as usual and Hagrid's hand would fall onto his head to pet him. First years would be instigating their very first snowball fight at Hogwarts while the older years would be conspiring against them. Her, Harry and Ron would be wandering across the snow to visit Hagrid, eager to share some time during their Holiday Break with the half-giant.

Hermione smiled fondly and stepped further into the broken room. Her hands released Harry and Ron as she saw something in the rubble. She leaned down and pushed the remains of a cabinet away and reached into the mess. Her hands returned from the wreckage with Professor Trewlawney's glass ball. She gazed into the smokey insides and could see the reflection of her best friend's behind her. Though she was never one much for Divination and the mystical arts, she could appreciate the irony of the situation.

Though she was sure that her hearing would never come back and she would be forever reliant on body language to communicate her ideas, she knew that seeing the reflection of the two boys in the glass ball was a good sign. She knew that with Ron and Harry beside her, she could face anything and anyone. Sure, the remains of the Final Battle wouldn't be easy to clean up, both physically, mentally and emotionally. The Ministry would have to be repaired inside and out, and hopefully revamped completely. Hogwarts would have to undergo a great many changes physically before it would be up to accepting students again.

Yet, Hermione felt hopeful. All things were possible with her best friends. Even overcoming the silence.


End file.
